Tell the Folks at Home What You're Doing, Roger
by balurinagirl
Summary: PreRENT. Roger discovers feelings he didn't know he had. M/R (*cackles*)


Maureen woke up to find Mark's 'half' of the bed neatly made, as usual. He was such a neat-freak… a cute one, true, but… whatever. She yawned and stretched, not wanting to leave the sanctuary of the warm covers. It was five minutes before she finally moved significantly, standing up and getting dressed decently for emerging into the loft; Roger was already awake, she could hear his guitar plunking out the usual abstract rhythms. She opened the door and confirmed his presence, and then glanced around for Mark, only to be met with thin air. "Roger, where's Mark?"  
  
Sitting up in his window perch, Roger didn't bother looking up from his work as he called back down. "Went out to get breakfast. Said he'd be back soon." He paused to write something down. "Sleep okay?"  
  
Grinning mischievously, Maureen sidled over and jumped up beside him, invading his sacred space for once. "We didn't get much sleeping done." *She peered over at his music, saying nothing else. She doubted he'd be shocked or surprised, but she also didn't really care. She was a girl with a mission.  
  
Roger struck a hideous note on the guitar as Maureen was suddenly there beside him, jerking back nearly out of his chair. "No doubt..." He cleared his throat and straightened up, trying to remain dignified as Mark's sex life wasn't the first choice of his conversations with his roommate's girlfriend. She was right, he wasn't surprised, but nor did he continue on, feeling too self-conscious with her that close to play what he'd been working on. One eye on her, he pretended to sort through some old sheet music.  
  
Maybe it was because she was bored that she was bothering him; Maureen rarely ever did strike up conversations with him. Roger was....weird. Hot, very hot, but weird. Whatever. She wasn't serious, so it was no big deal to her. "Roger..." It's thoughtful, casual, as if she was commenting on the weather. "Do you find me attractive?"  
  
Even the mimed paper-sorting stops at that question and Roger looked up squarely at her, brows knotting in slight confusion. "What kinda question is that?"  
  
Maureen smiled innocently back. "A serious one." Her expression became more serious, internally enjoying what she considered an exercise in acting. "Come on, Roger, don't pretend that there's nothing between us, after all this time!"  
  
For a moment Roger honestly considered it. Dressing as scantily as she usually did...yeah, she was attractive. Thinking such thoughts his eyes wandered, taking in exactly what she was wearing, then upon sharp realization he jerked his gaze away. "There's not..." He growled, suddenly wishing Mark was back...though how that wimp could calm down a girl like Maureen was beyond him.  
  
Maureen gazed at him, pouting and looking as innocent as it was possible for her to look. "Isn't there?" Another grin appeared of its own will. "You watch me all the time. I'm not blind, you know. Besides, it's not like anyone has to know...."  
  
Roger stared at her incredulously, wondering where in the world she got those ideas. The notion that this was just a feat of acting never really occurred to him...it was too convincing. "No I don't... Know what? I mean..." He shook his head, frustrated. "Maureen, knock it off. You're Mark's girl." He reached out with one hand to push her away.  
  
Maureen caught his hand stubbornly, peering at him incredulously. "Yes, you do. From behind that guitar of yours." Maureen bit back a giggle and kept Roger's hand in one of hers, hooking her other arm gently around his neck. "'Mark's girl'? He doesn't own me. Come on, Roger... please? You and I have a lot in common, you know." She was sure that her frantic giggles would burst out at any second, and she wanted to milk the expression on Roger's face for all she could.  
  
Roger's expression would be definitely one worth milking...surprise, first and foremost, not so much at Maureen's flirting but that she was actually serious about it. Then embarrassment when he found himself caught with her around his neck. He suddenly went very stiff. "He's gonna be home soon..." A lame excuse, but the only one he could think of as he set the guitar aside...so it wouldn't get banged up...yeah, that was it...  
  
Maureen stared dumbly for a second. He wanted to? Well... that was interesting. Interesting. Call it practice... whatever. She smiled. "It's Mark. It's New York. He locked the door after him." And with that, because she knew she was going to burst out laughing any second, she pulled him to her and kissed him. An intense, concentrated kiss, like that first time with Mark. Just to see what he would do... of course.  
  
Roger hadn't meant to sound like he wanted to...he was trying to warn her off. But Maureen seemed dead-set on going through with it, as proven by her intense and sudden kiss, and without thinking his arms went back up around her, returning it for all he was worth.   
  
Still his conscience gave him a hard time. Mark was his best friend! He couldn't do this to the poor guy...the wimp had enough trouble finding girls as it was... Finally finding something remotely like self-control Roger pushed her back, catching his breath and standing up out of his chair angrily. "Stop it, Maureen."  
  
Maureen crossed her arms in a mock-pout. "You liked it!" And finally, she couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. "And you think I think you're hot." Her laugh gave way to hiccups, and she grinned sunnily up at him. "You totally fell for it!" Actually, she'd liked it too. But that was beside the point.  
  
Roger stared. Fell for it? Fell for what?   
  
It was at that moment that the key turned in the lock, and Mark came in, balancing grocery bags in one hand, while he attempted to turn the key with the other. Maureen ran to help him, taking the bags. While Roger watched, the two exchanged a quick kiss and went to the other end of the loft to put the food away, leaving him alone.  
  
He sat back in his chair, ignoring his guitar. She was just one more girl that he couldn't have. 


End file.
